Sinner or Saint?
by CupcakeBean
Summary: And suddenly the floodgates were open and there was no turning back. My head was no longer swimming from Jack Daniels; I was drunk on Temperance Brennan." Written for the prompt "Booth/Brennan, drunk sex" at the bitesize bones comment fic meme on LJ.


**Disclaimer**: This story was written for entertainment purposes only and no copyright infringement was intended.

…

**Sinner or Saint?**

As the door swung open suddenly, we stumbled into her apartment, laughing raucously and bumping into each other.

"Shhh!" I hissed, lifting a finger to my lips. "You're gonna wake up the whole building, Bones!" Giggling, my partner crashed into an end table and dropped her purse, sending the contents flying in every direction. "Maybe you should have stopped before you drank the _entire_ bottle of wine…" I teased, watching her crawl around on the floor, scooping up change, makeup, keys, and whatever else women carry in their handbags.

She looked up at me innocently. "Why?"

I chuckled. "Because you," I held out my hand, "are drunk."

She quirked an eyebrow and smirked at me. "Me? You seem pretty inebriated yourself, Booth." She grabbed my proffered hand and I hauled her bodily to her feet.

"You are the only person I know that uses a word like ineb-_inerb_-in—_whatever you said_—when they're drunk." Okay, so maybe that last shot of Jack wasn't the best idea either… My head was starting to swim.

Bones giggled again and poked me in the chest with her pointy little finger. "Did you pay the cab driver?"

"Do you really think he would have let me leave without paying?" The cabbie had definitely not been as amused by our intoxication as we were. It took an extra twenty bucks to convince him to drive us the four blocks from the bar to Bones' apartment.

Removing her finger from my pectoral muscle, Bones clutched handfuls of my shirt, wobbling on one foot as she struggled to remove her shoes. I held my arms out, as if I were actually steady enough to keep us both upright. As she flashed me a crooked grin, I wondered—not for the first time that night—how she could possibly get any cuter.

Releasing her death grip on me, Bones started toward the kitchen, promptly tripping over her shoes and hurtling toward me. With surprisingly quick reflexes, I caught her around the waist as she collided into my chest.

"Ooof!" I stumbled back a few steps, but managed to keep us on our feet. "Easy there, killer."

Wrapping her arms around my neck, she buried her face into my T-shirt and dissolved in a fit of laughter. I started to crack up—her mirth was infectious—until my hazy brain registered just how tightly she was pressed against me. I took a deep breath and instantly regretted it. She smelled amazing.

"You smell good," Bones mumbled against my shoulder.

All the blood that had been pounding in my head rushed south and I cleared my throat nervously. Things had taken a decidedly different turn in an instant, and my body was all too aware of it. As she snuggled in closer, her face now dangerously close to my neck, I realized I needed a distraction. Pronto!

_Saint Joseph, Saint Peter, Saint Paul, Saint John..._

"Booth, why are you reciting saints?"

Had I been saying them out loud? "Uh, I just—uh…"

Her hands slid down to settle on my chest and I had to suppress a shudder. "Is it my proximity?" she murmured, her warm breath causing my skin to break out in goose bumps.

"I—uh," my brain couldn't seem to form a coherent thought, "Yeah, Bones. It is."

"You find my proximity arousing?"

I groaned. Leave it to Bones to get right to the point. "Yes, okay?!"

"And that bothers you," she stated, sounding so disappointed that I was scrambling to reassure her. I tightened my embrace before she could pull away.

"It's just that… We're drunk, Temperance. Really drunk. And this could get weird." My hands rubbed soothing circles on her back. "You know?"

"So," she relaxed into me again, "you're afraid that things could get weird between us?" I nodded earnestly. "But you don't actually _mind_ that being close to me arouses you?"

I heard a choking sound and realized it was coming from me. "What? No!" I shook my head, trying to clear the alcohol-induced cobwebs. "I mean, yes? Yes."

Purring—dear God, she was _purring_!—Bones nuzzled my neck. "Which one is it?"

_Oh shit_. "Saint Joseph, Saint Peter, Saint Paul, Saint John..."

I felt her lips, feather-light, against my throat. "Booth?"

"…Saint Matthew, Saint Bernadette, Saint Christopher, Saint Jude…"

"Is there a Saint Seeley?" She lifted her head and pinned me with her intense blue eyes.

It was a challenge and I couldn't look away. "No," I replied, my voice low and gravelly-sounding. My gaze dropped to her lips and watched her tongue dart out to wet them. "Not anymore."

And suddenly the floodgates were open and there was no turning back. My head was no longer swimming from Jack Daniels; I was drunk on Temperance Brennan.

Crushing my mouth to hers, I swallowed her surprised gasp. She recovered quickly though, threading her fingers in my short hair and pulling me closer. I coaxed her lips apart, tasting the sweet flavor of red wine and _her_. And when I felt the silken sweep of her tongue against mine, I was galvanized into action.

My hands were everywhere: tangled in her hair, gliding across her back, slipping under the hem of her shirt. I needed to touch every inch of her, a pleasure I'd been denying myself much too long. I cupped her perfect ass, tugging her hips firmly against mine and creating a delicious friction between our bodies. She reciprocated by nipping her way along my jawline and pulling my earlobe into her mouth. I grunted in approval, excited by her enthusiastic response.

I was so focused on what I wanted to do to her, I barely noticed when she yanked my shirt over my head and started working on my Cocky belt buckle. My mind snapped to attention when she popped open the button on my jeans and slowly lowered the zipper. As my pants pooled around my ankles, her hot little hand cupped me through my boxers, eliciting an involuntary groan from the deepest part of my chest. My eyes rolled back in my head as she stroked me a few times, until I finally, reluctantly, stepped out of her reach.

"My turn," I announced, fumbling with the tiny buttons on her blouse before tossing it aside. Her pants quickly joined the pile on the floor. As she reached for my erection again, I scolded her. "Uh uh, Bones. You do that and this'll be over before it even starts." She smiled wickedly and I knew I was in big trouble.

Before she could begin whatever form of torture she was obviously plotting, I scooped my almost-naked partner off her feet, nearly tripping over our clothes in my rush to the bedroom. I lifted her easily—she weighed practically nothing—intending to toss her gently on the bed, but she clung to me and I lost my balance. We landed in a heap of tangled limbs, laughing at the ridiculousness of the situation.

Chuckling, I lifted my head and met her smiling gaze. It hit me suddenly that I was about to have sex with my best friend, a realization that should have scared the hell out of me. Instead, as she gently cupped my cheek in her tiny palm, it felt like the most natural thing in the world. Any lingering doubts instantly vanished as our lips met again tenderly.

We kissed leisurely for a while, no longer in a hurry for the main event. Our hands roamed, mapping and memorizing, cataloging each different response. And every time our eyes met, we couldn't help but smile, both a little awed at how comfortable this was. After five years of anticipation, it should have been awkward or uncertain, but it felt _right_. It wasn't long before our slow exploration turned more heated.

As I wrestled with the clasp of her bra—my fingers now clumsy with anticipation rather than alcohol—Bones arched her back, teasing me with her tantalizing curves. I buried my face in her ample cleavage, nuzzling and nibbling mindlessly until finally conquering her bra and freeing her breasts. I froze, momentarily overwhelmed by miles of pale skin and perfection.

"Touch me, Booth."

Her breathless demand brought me out of my reverie. I couldn't imagine denying her—or me—any longer. I slid my palm across her flat tummy—lower and lower and lower—until I encountered the tiny scrap of lace at her center. Slipping my fingers underneath, I found her ready and more than willing.

With a growl, I yanked off her panties and shucked my boxers, nudging her legs apart and positioning myself at her entrance. Our gazes locked for a heart-stopping moment, and I could see the desire mirrored openly on her face. As I slid easily into her warmth, my eyes squeezed shut and I gritted my teeth, fighting for control. I had fantasized about this more times than I care to admit, but reality was much, _much_ better than anything my mind could conjure up. I looked down at her, wanting to remember everything about the way she looked and felt and sounded.

"You're so beautiful, Bones," I whispered, unable to keep the thought to myself. My throat felt choked with emotion.

She looked so _touched_ by my words, like she was hearing it for the first time. I started to move and we quickly fell into a steady rhythm. Her soft sighs and whimpers urged me on, driving us both closer and closer to the brink. The sensations were too much and I was almost relieved when she cried out, shattering like glass beneath me. I followed suit, my harsh cries mingling with her breathy moans.

As our heartbeats slowed and our breathing returned to normal, I pulled her closer and she snuggled into my side, giving me a lazy grin. I kissed her forehead, feeling like one lucky son of a bitch.

"Booth?"

"Hmmm?" My eyelids were starting to get very heavy, but I forced my brain to focus just a little bit longer.

"I think there _should_ be a Saint Seeley."

My laugh was booming in the quiet bedroom. "Damn, I'm good." I smirked at her and winked. "Ow!"

For someone with such tiny fists, my partner had a hell of a right hook. I rubbed my soon-to-be bruised ribcage and kissed her forehead again as we finally let sleep overtake us.


End file.
